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A C P C - 2015/02 Challenge Poem/Title Contest - Final Results/Comments
(Jan.20,1943 / Oklahoma)

A C P C - 2015/02 Challenge Poem/Title Contest - Final Results/Comments

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NEW CHALLENGE POEM/TITLE CONTEST
- - - - - - -THE FEB 2015 WINNER - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - IS DARLENE WALSH - - - - - - - -
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The vote tally as counted by Brian Johnston

Bri Edwards (1)
- - Darlene Walsh
Darlene Walsh (2)
- - Brian Johnston
- - Diane Hine
Diane Hine (0)
Brian Johnston (1)
- - Bri Edwards


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Contest Entries Begin Here....
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BEING AT CHOICE (New Combined Poem Title)
An Echo Poem by Lora Colon and Brian Johnston


I WOKE UP by Lora Colon (Poem Being Echoed)

I woke up this morning to nothing,
Emptiness crowded my lonely room,
The sound of silence was deafening,
I was blinded by the rays of gloom,
(Just a dress rehearsal for the tomb)

Walking on the sands of time, I wept,
No footprints next to mine, nor behind,
No one there to take my outstretched hand,
Even memories were hard to find,
(Seeing the truth..... better I were blind)

I woke up this morning with no one,
But I've shed the fetters of pretense,
Waiting for the storm I knew would come,
I then ordered the day to commence,
(To whom but the poet would that make sense!)

I woke up this morning..... I asked why,
Looking back, how unreal it all seems,
Relics of love, all frozen in time,
Now regrets take the place of my dreams,
(Dreams..... just wishes taken to extremes)

Reality woke me this morning,
No castles in the air left to build,
I touch, but I can no longer feel,
Has the last page of my life been filled?
(Just maybe, the last of my tears spilled?)

- - - - - - - - - -

ON THE RIGHT SIDE OF THE BED by Brian Johnston
An Echo of I WOKE UP

Possibility woke me this morning,
I found Love's light had filled up my room
There was laughter in each dancing sunbeam
That had chased out the least hint of gloom,
And clear music unblemished by volume.

Yes, the sands of all time were my playground
All the castles I built just for show,
No real permanence needed for bliss here,
Opportunities longing to grow,
A musician's deft tune on a banjo.

Oh, I woke up this morning with no one,
But my God and the air that comes free,
I'm awash in the colors of rainbow,
With my soul breathing soft like a tree,
One more supplicant thrilled by his entry.

Yes, I woke up this morning refreshed by
The sweet loss of bad dream's freight unfurled,
Now its impact is barely a mem'ry,
Like smoke rising to heaven it curled,
Far less burdensome weight in my sleep world.

Oh, I woke up this morning with feelings
And discovered I loved every one,
With no more reservations, no withholds,
Oh my God, will we ever have fun! ?
Like a minstrel whose heart's playing Gershwin!


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A DAY IN THE LIFE OF SADNESS
An Echo Poem by Lora Colon and Darlene Walsh


I WOKE UP by Lora Colon

I woke up this morning to nothing,
Emptiness crowded my lonely room,
The sound of silence was deafening,
I was blinded by the rays of gloom,
(Just a dress rehearsal for the tomb)

Walking on the sands of time, I wept,
No footprints next to mine, nor behind,
No one there to take my outstretched hand,
Even memories were hard to find,
(Seeing the truth..... better I were blind)

I woke up this morning with no one,
But I've shed the fetters of pretense,
Waiting for the storm I knew would come,
I then ordered the day to commence,
(To whom but the poet would that make sense!)

I woke up this morning..... I asked why,
Looking back, how unreal it all seems,
Relics of love, all frozen in time,
Now regrets take the place of my dreams,
(Dreams..... just wishes taken to extremes)

Reality woke me this morning,
No castles in the air left to build,
I touch, but I can no longer feel,
Has the last page of my life been filled?
(Just maybe, the last of my tears spilled?)

- - - - - - - - - -

TIME TO SLEEP by Darlene Walsh
An Echo of I WOKE UP

The day is done and it's time to sleep
With crowds of no one in my lonely room.
In my room while the silence grows deep,
Was there sun today or just rays of gloom.
(My soft mattress or my nightly tomb)

The bottle of time spilled sand on the shore,
Walking hand in hand when he was kind
And sharing footprints together in the sand,
Now all that was us is left behind.
(Now his falsehood is no longer confined)

My bed tonight is cold and lonely.
And my life no longer makes any sense.
The sadness storm has come and gone;
It has all spilled out without pretense.
(All he said was foolish nonsense)

As my day ends, all is a mystery.
How could I have missed all his schemes,
Those little hints, time after time.
Now I know he is not what he seems!
(Seems his goal was to hide in my dreams)

Tears on my pillow tell me the truth.
The life I once thought nice has been killed.
Is nothing of him in my heart left to feel,
Have all thoughts of him been chilled?
(When will my last tears be finally spilled?)


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PAUCITY AND PLENTY
An Echo Poem by Brian Johnston and Diane Hine

BIFURCATED BRIAN by Brian Johnston

THE GHOST SOUL by Brian Johnston

I’ve always been a ghost soul
Existence is my lot,
What you call life is simply pain,
And love, I know it not.

Life’s boundaries are lingering
My train it never comes,
And hope to me a paltry gift
Just dried chrysanthemums.

If God were real, He would do more
Than leave all in a lurch,
Myopic patrons of the faith,
Pretenders to His church.

And Hell is not that different
From my life’s daily bread,
Relieved, from what I think I see,
The dead are simply dead.

I’m lost in my imagining
Control of love that’s past
The rotting dreams of what could be,
Thank God they didn’t last.


GIVING UP THE GHOST by Brian Johnston
An Echo of THE GHOST SOUL

My dream is possibility,
Not what I think I’m owed,
My expectations not in sight,
And love my only code.

All feelings are a gift from God,
Intended just to serve,
His loving lessons to His child,
When life throws me a curve.

And daily are His gifts bestowed,
Confirming He is near,
My antics bringing Him a laugh,
His laugh fills me with cheer.

Content with what the future holds
No fears of early chill,
I joyfully step into breach
A lamb unto His will.

My shepherd in the storm’s tumult,
And shield from all alarms,
The wonder of His saving grace,
The welcome of His arms.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

GARDEN ECHO by Diane Hine
An Echo of BIFURCATED BRIAN

I awoke and dipped my toe in
to the garden of unknowing.
In the garden questions grew
and nearly every answer too.

Why do roosters crow at dawn?
Because the crow is too forlorn.
What will cure petunia knotting?
Trim the roots before repotting.

Do chrysanths require mowing?
God prefers our bloomers showing.
Will He help us do the hoeing?
No.

Will we smell forget-me-nots
or asphodels? Well I can’t tell,
and how much love is Life bestowing?
Just enough to keep us going.


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LIFE AIN'T EASY LOTS OF TIMES
An Echo Poem by Lora Colon and Bri Edwards

I WOKE UP by Lora Colon

I woke up this morning to nothing,
Emptiness crowded my lonely room,
The sound of silence was deafening,
I was blinded by the rays of gloom,
(Just a dress rehearsal for the tomb)

Walking on the sands of time, I wept,
No footprints next to mine, nor behind,
No one there to take my outstretched hand,
Even memories were hard to find,
(Seeing the truth..... better I were blind)

I woke up this morning with no one,
But I've shed the fetters of pretense,
Waiting for the storm I knew would come,
I then ordered the day to commence,
(To whom but the poet would that make sense!)

I woke up this morning..... I asked why,
Looking back, how unreal it all seems,
Relics of love, all frozen in time,
Now regrets take the place of my dreams,
(Dreams..... just wishes taken to extremes)

Reality woke me this morning,
No castles in the air left to build,
I touch, but I can no longer feel,
Has the last page of my life been filled?
(Just maybe, the last of my tears spilled?)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

YOU WOKE UP by Bri Edwards
An Echo of I WOKE UP

What could ever be better than “nothing”?
And is “emptiness” “nothing”? I’m CONFUSED!
[Simon & Garfunkel sang “Silence”, so softly.]
By blinding “gloom”, I was far from amused,
AND I so hate that (by it) you were ever abused.

Well, it seems you made it to the beach.
And you had the whole beach to yourself.
If I’d been there, I’d have taken your hand,
and I would forever be your seeing-eye elf.
And I bet, your memories, we’d find on a shelf.

What could ever be better than solitude?
“Fetters of pretense”? What are those?
As for storms, it’s good to be prepared ….
with boots, and some snuggly-warm clothes,
AND don’t forget tissues …..for your nose!

You woke up in the morning? Is that so bad?
Do NOT think of the “past” if it was unpleasant!
[I know it’s a very TALL order for some to fill,
whether regrets are those of a Queen or a Peasant,
WHEN “dreams” flee like a poor flushed pheasant.]

But “reality” is sometimes what one makes of it;
don’t ask singer Don McLean to help you there.
And PERHAPS it is true, and it IS your road’s end,
but NO NEED for the “last page” to bring despair …..
if there are NO more tears & NO more pulling your HAIR!


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User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 1 votes ) 14

Comments (14)

My comments on the contestant poems for February... Lora Colon and Bri Edwards - Always a scrappy fighter Bri managed to pull out one vote to the astonishment of all.: -) Perhaps it is due to so many dog bites from his postman years, perhaps it is the calluses on his sense of humor that protect and endear him to female voters, but it is clear that his heart (if not his humor) is always on point. Lora for her part must live close to Oklahoma where the weather is always changing but I too am confused by the 'Fetters of Pretense' image. Is she berating herself for dreaming that someone wants to share her life, or are the Fetters of Pretense her expectation her life will never see sunny days? Doesn't waiting for the coming storm imply she is at least not in a storm at present? I always like a good thunder and lightning storm but that is just me. But I am betting with Bri that with a bottle of good wine and some serious hand-holding that the weather for Lora could change faster than an Oklahoma day. 'If you don't like the weather there, just wait 5 minutes' I think the saying goes. If you aren't feeling loved Lora, I bet both Bri and I would love to take you on a picnic. What fun! Bri and I could have a contest to see who could make Lora laugh first. And relics of love, are they frozen in time or alive in your memory? Isn’t that just perspective? But perhaps focusing on the past is not the best way to discover a future. But you can certainly feel Lora and while we feel your feelings deeply, there is no one asking you to stay there so we can feel superior. We love you too much for that! _______________________________________________________ Brian Johnston and Diane Hine – Diane trips the light fantastic in the space between my two poems, in the space where no answers exist and the faith that all answers are God. Diane was kind enough to give me a little cheat-sheet to help me at my advanced age which I cannot resist sharing with all of you… Diane Speaks: In my poem, the first Brian is asking the questions and the second Brian has the answers. Brian 1 is the crow and Brian 2 is the rooster. Brian 1's petunias are knotted and Brian 2 sorts them out (I read that petunias can symbolize anger or resentment) . Brian 1 is hiding his sunny smile and Brian 2 wants him to reveal it (chrysanthemums to symbolize the sun) . Brian 1 wants more help from God, but Brian 2 accepts his lot. Brian 1 asks about im/mortality and Brian 2 admits he can't answer (asphodels - underworld) (forget-me-nots - persistence) We have up days and down days, so the answer to the last question is 'just enough.' Brian Speaks: My favorite line in Diane’s poem has to be ‘Do chrysanths require mowing? God prefers our bloomers showing.’ I vote with God Diane, I vote with God! ____________________________________________ Lora Colon and Darlene Walsh – More a companion piece than an Echo, Darlene faithfully follows Lora on her trail of tears, sharing Lora’s pain in the unique way that perhaps only a woman can. The man’s feelings are not counted for much in either of these poems nor is there seemingly an awareness of the disappointments the woman has brought to the relationship. If he was more interested in the sensual side of the relationship for example, was she too interested in feeling secure? I mourn the man’s perceived falsehood at the same time that I suspect I might fare little better in this world where truth is what women think it is and man’s motives never completely innocent. Women too share this lack of innocence however, and is it really to much to simply say, ‘Boy do we see things differently? ’ and go out for pizza and beer anyway?  
Beautiful entries last month...the congregation of poetry gurus. I should commend all of you for making this contest still a captivating one. Your poems for the contest are amazing. I should sincerely apologize for not been able to part take in this contest, it was largely due to my busy schedule in school. However, I wish to say once again that, you have all done well, and hopefully, I will join you this month. Bravo to all!
Brian, congrats on another monthly contest, pulled off without TOO MUCH corruption on your part! now I'll peek at the new one. bri :)
MY vote this month goes to Darlene Walsh. I will comment on the individual contestant poems tomorrow. The vote tally is as follows: Bri Edwards (1) Darlene Walsh Darlene Walsh (2) Brian Johnston Diane Hine Diane Hine (0) Brian Johnston (1) Bri Edwards ################################# February's Winner is thus Darlene Walsh #################################
My vote this month goes to Bri. Brian (ON THE RIGHT SIDE OF THE BED) Your poem is an inspirational prayer to accept God's gifts as they were intended, as freely given rather than deserved. A good balance of possible happiness to compliment the sadness of Lora's poem. Diane A lovely poem, it would be nice if all questions could be so easily known with such nice answers. Life would be so much easier. Bri Your poem looks like a valiant persuasion to be positive in the face of overwhelming sadness of Lora's poem. To look positively toward the future is a good thing, but sometimes the sadness of the past is just to overwhelming, until the time is right for healing to begin. And I like the reference to Don McLean, Vincent was one of my songs for a while until I was ready to heal.
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